


It’s gonna be (Alright)

by tukimecca



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Flirting, I'm sorry Xuxi, M/M, but he's fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:33:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27262804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tukimecca/pseuds/tukimecca
Summary: Mark is a nurse. Xuxi is the unfortunate patient whose testicle got stuck in a chair. Awkward flirting ensued.
Relationships: Mark Lee/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas
Comments: 9
Kudos: 121





	It’s gonna be (Alright)

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: The idea has been stuck with me since I wrote the vibrator fiasco-lumwarg bcs I happened to find an article abt this situation right after I posted that fic. It’s finally there. This is longer than it’s supposed to be, but it’s here. I wish I could add more football references, but ehhh. Long live Linebacker-Xuxi agenda!
> 
> Apologize for any mistakes, timeline or place inaccuracy. Beta and emotional support by Nasya the greatest.

_Me, you, we try to leave this place  
Ride quickly, my heart is in the same place  
I barely worry about that next time  
There’s not enough time so now we on our way _

Make a Wish - NCT U

:::

Working as a nurse in ER has given Mark _plenty_ of bizarre experience, as much as the terrifying and nerve wracking ones.

At this point, he’s pretty much used to, as ironic as it is, (but supposes with his job, this is something that bounds to, if not _has to,_ happen) seeing bloody, horrifying things occurred in front of him. He no longer flinches at the sight of blood, or limbs twisted to such impossible angles to expose pale, pinkened bones. Mark has seen life passed and returned, and has participated in every kind of action needed to save patients from enduring anymore pain.

Mark’s used to it. All of it. Including the bizarrely hilarious sex-induced accident.

Oh, they’re _aplenty_ . Always spiking around summer when everyone in ER, who conveniently happened to be either single or in the middle of a long, enduring road of courtship, started talking spitefully about their not-so-single friends. Those are the days when ER would have an influx of patients coming with face red from both embarrassment and heat. Jeno (that _ass_ ) has never been so eager to perch by the phone, expecting to hear someone stuttering beyond the phone, struggling to explain their _situation_ while leaving as much dignity intact as possible.

Which is, if you asked Mark, rather pointless since the medical staff in charge would end up knowing anyways. Everyone in ER’s kinda nosy when it comes to this kind of case too, so they’d try to get a glimpse of what happened. If they couldn’t get a direct look,it’d later become a ‘topic of discussion’ during lunch, as Jaemin likes to put it (“We’re also talking about the best method to save the patient, so it’s a ‘discussion’, not a ‘gossip’!” he had said).

Mark, while not taking any particular glee nor excitement that his pathetically single colleagues seem to share, has his own way of _enjoying_ this kind of accident. Being the nerd that (Donghyuck accused) he is, he _catalogued_ these kinds of patients into two categories.

The first one being the patient who comes with their partner. Lover. Significant other. Friend with benefit. One night stand. (He’d mentally check which one among those they exactly are based on their behavior). Each of them would either be worried as fuck, strangely calm, or weirdly proud. The last type usually would try to slip a comment or two about their _bed prowess_ , which Mark cares very little about. He’d rather hear an _ahjumma_ prattling about her ‘inconsiderate, insolent in laws’ than some dude being proud about hurting their partner. Their facial expressions varied from white as sheet to beet-red, but they all have that ‘guilty as charged’ edge lining their gestures.

The second one are the pathetically single patient who are either; simply, curiously, adventurous, or mind-bogglingly randy as fuck. This difference tends to matter less the more bizarre their accident is. Mark has had a patient coming with a freaking salami stuck in his anus last year and the guy was combination of all things above (pathetically single and adventurously horny as fuck that it had majorly decreased his brain’s capability). 

This second type of patient, when they’re not coming alone, has someone else to accompany them. Very rarely a family member, if not never. A friend. There’s always a friend, who Mark has little doubt will be and is, their life long companion. Best buddy, best pal, partner in life ‘till kingdom come. After all, what is better bonding activity than sharing your sordidly embarrassing dirty little secret?

These friends, like the ‘partner’ in the first type of patient, can be divided again into several categories; the overly worried friend, the calm as cucumber friend, the supportive and reassuring friend, the “why am i friend with this shit” friend, and the last category; the evil laughing hyenas.

If Mark will ever be this second type of patient (God forbid, he’s not that desperate), he’s pretty sure everyone in ER is classified as this last category. Mark loves them, they’ve gone through thick and thin together. They’re good people who Mark trusts with his life, but they also happened to have no qualms about laughing over other people’s hilarious, dumb misery.

His current patient’s friend also happened to be in this category.

The brunette in gray hoodie has been cackling nonstop ever since he stepped into ER. But he has never left his unfortunate friend’s side even once, constantly talking to (teasing) him in between his peal of laughter in a language that Mark vaguely registered as Mandarin? He could be very much wrong but those obviously aren’t Korean.

Yet, accompanying those cackles are occasional pats on disheveled, ink black hair. Friendly and delicate slaps on the poor patient’s shoulder. He might have unforgivingly laughed over his friend’s sorry state, but the gesture, and the fact that he’s here alone shows that he’s a good friend. Someone that the patient genuinely trusts.

It takes courage to explain this situation to ER. It takes courage _and trust_ to call your friend over for help in this situation.

In a situation where your precious, precious testicle has somehow found a way to be stuck in a plastic chair’s slit.

Really, how did he even find a way to this situation is beyond Mark. He’s not sure he really wanted to know what happened to the poor guy, what did he do, that his balls decided that, “hey! Maybe sticking myself between these two plastics is a brilliant idea!”

The poor lad, who probably has consumed a large dose of pain killer, now has a large blanket draped over him from his waist down, half-hiding the plastic chair that’s been etched to his bottom for a while. Not necessarily saving his dignity, all things considered. Mark hasn’t caught a glimpse of his face since he arrived, hidden behind his arms, his hair sticking messily from between his long, _long_ finger.

Small observation. The guy’s _long_ everywhere. _Check_.

Mark is so not ogling his patient. Especially a patient who’s dumb enough to land himself in this bizzare situation.

Donghyuck did say Mark has a type that is specifically huge and dumb.

 _Well_.

The ‘evil friend’ says something, finally, in a language that Mark understands; Korean. Obviously, considering he’s actually speaking to Mark. “Is the doctor coming anytime soon?”

He’s smiling but experience helped Mark sensing the worry lined up behind his words. The nurse gives the reply along with his best reassuring smile, “Dr. Lee is tending another patient now, he should be here in a minute.”

Small slap on the shoulder. An annoyed grunt from the patient. The evil friend whistles, “the doc’s coming anytime now. Stop crying, you big baby.”

The poor lad grunts again, sounding more annoyed than before. He doesn’t sound convincing when he speaks, “ ‘m not crying,” from how suspiciously wet his voice is.

If he’s crying, Mark can’t blame him. He got his balls. Stuck. In Chair.

Good gracious. Mark would rather combust on the spot than having to endure the misery of having his sperm factory trapped in between two rigid plastic planks.

Before the conversation could proceed, the curtain swished open. Enters Taeyong, looking pretty and unreal as always. Mark catches the guy-friend visibly gawking at Taeyong’s near-divine appearance, probably thinking something along the line of; _what is a mythical creature doing in a hospital?_

“Hello,” Taeyong says breezily, offering customary genial handshake to the gaping guy who’s in the danger of dislocating his jaw. “I’m Dr. Lee, I apologize for being late, got a little caught up back there.”

The brunette stares a little bit more. Closes his mouth (thankfully). Blinks so rapid that Mark had a hard time following, swallows, then groggily (understandable) says, “hi. I’m Hendery.”

Having a name to tack on a face is always a good thing. Hendery doesn’t seem to notice the hand Taeyong has offered so the doctor takes it to his own hand - no pun intended, to give the young foreigner a firm handshake. “Good, Hendery. And my patient today is?”

All three gazes fall on the poor lad of a patient who immediately flinched, most likely realizing the suddenly dawning silence between them is a cue that now everyone’s attention is on him. Hendery, eyes no longer fascinatedly stuck on Taeyong (although Mark will catch him stealing a glance now and then later), grins, “My friend over here, Huang Xuxi. He, mfrgh.”

Ah, yes; _the evil laughing hyenas_.

At his friend’s slipping composure, Huang Xuxi, their patient of the day, growls, “Hendery, you asshole.”

Mark silently agrees with him.

“I’ve heard the gist of it from Jeno,” Taeyong continues as if Hendery did not just laugh in the middle of explaining his friend’s, probably even if not really, fatal condition. “Basically, Mr. Huang’s legs are injured so he has to sit down when taking a bath. Unfortunately, his testicle, swollen under long exposure of hot water, slipped in betwee-”

“Oh my god, I can’t do this. I _fucking_ can’t,” Huang Xuxi moans. Whimpers, too, Mark notes the slight tremble of his shoulder. Burying his head deeper to his arms, fingers wrenching his hair tighter.

Mark sincerely, earnestly, pity the guy.

Hendery tries to contain his laughter, he goes as far as biting his sleeves.

He fails miserably. Evil, _evil_ loyal fucking hyenas.

Mark really admires Taeyong’s composure. He hopes he can be as unbothered as Taeyong when he’s on duty, a stark contrast to his goofy and rather adorable persona when he hangs the white coat off. “Don’t worry, Mr. Huang. We’ve got this covered, I’ve taken care of something like this before,” Taeyong says with absolute conviction, eyes bright.

They spark hope into Mark, who’s also secretly surprised because he clearly has never been in this kind of situation before? Sex toy going too deep or broken tissues, sure. Balls stuck in unfortunate places? Never. But seeing Taeyong’s sanguine expression, perhaps it really has happened before Mark worked in this hospital. Or Taeyong faced a similar situation somewhere else, the man has a longer career than some of his peers afterall.

“That’s a relief, Xuxi,” Hendery slaps his friend’s shoulder again, voice bright and rich with laughter.

In contrast to this is Xuxi’s distressed, tiny, “you sure?”

“Positive,” Taeyong clasped his hands together, declares, “we just need to cut them off!”

“MY BALLS????”

Huang Xuxi, in a bout of panic and surprise, has emerged from the measly hideout of his hands.

Despite the blotchiness of his face, the big fat blob of tears, he’s pasty and pallid as the sheet he’s lying on.

And he’s goddamn _gorgeous_.

Mark’s not exaggerating to say he is the most attractive man he’s ever seen. Not everyone can look this exquisite in such pitiable condition, but he is; looking good and handsome and Mark _really_ has to stop ruffling through the dictionary in his head before he ends up with dozens of words to describe Xuxi’s beauty.

Out of all people who had to get their balls stuck in a chair, of course it gotta be the most gorgeous one.

“My apologies,” Taeyong bows a little, “I’m afraid I wasn’t being clear enough. I meant to say we just need to cut the chair off. Rest assured, we’re not going to harm your testicle.”

Even hearing those words, that are meant to be reassuring, doesn’t return color to Xuxi’s, and Hendery’s, pasty faces. Understandable, nothing is reassuring from having sharp objects anywhere near your crotch, let alone your balls.

“Can you just,” Hendery visibly swallows, “yank his balls-”

The _him_ in concern hollers morosely, in a language that’s decidedly not Korean. 

“-out, or, I don’t know. Anything else that doesn’t involve cutting?” Hendery continued, ignoring his friend’s wail.

Taeyong looks thoughtfully at his patient before stepping closer to the bed, “I need to take a look.”

Huang Xuxi squawks, “What?”

As if the poor lad hasn’t said anything, Taeyong merely adds, “excuse me,” before lifting the blanket, exposing Huang Xuxi’s ill-fated condition.

A chair stuck to your ass is not a beautiful sight, not even firmly sculpted glutes could save you.

Indeed, Huang Xuxi has firmly sculpted glutes, the one you’d see in textbooks or lectures. Exemplary and ideal. He must have done some kind of sport, didn’t Taeyong mention something about leg injury?

The suspect to be a sportsman can only stare in horror as Taeyong bends down to take a closer look - _inspects_ his very unfortunate ass, going as far as prodding and, from the whimper that slipped out from his gorgeous, _gorgeous_ lips, possibly touching his abused balls. Hendery watches, totally mute, in utter mortification.

Nodding to himself, Taeyong says, “I believe to avoid further damage to your testicle, which could lead to various conditions, which worst is we have to completely remo-”

“Just cut the chair, please,” Xuxi breaks into a sob, burying his adonis-like face into his large hands.

Mark suspects, watching the impossibly bright smile and glint on Taeyong’s eyes, that pretty much like the rest of the nurses in the ER, Taeyong also takes pleasure from this hilariously unfortunate case. “That settled it, then.”

As if on cue, the door to ER is thrown open, rather dramatically if Mark had to say, and Jeno flings the cubicle’s curtain open, enters with a beaming smile that is not befitting of this tragic situation and an overly enthusiastic, “chainsaw’s ready!”

Mark sincerely, earnestly, genuinely, pities Huang Xuxi. Who shrinks then goes absolutely stock still at hearing the word, ‘chainsaw’. Honestly, considering where the contraption will go, which man wouldn’t?

“Relax,” Taeyong pats Mark’s back, slightly nudging him forward. “You’ll have Nurse Lee over here to assist you. We need to get you as relaxed as possible, Mr. Huang. Please follow after Nurse Lee’s instruction, focus on what he said, and you won’t even notice that the chair’s off.”

Mark scoots closer to the distressed patient. Tentatively offering his hand to shake, completely forgetting that Huang Xuxi isn’t even looking at him right now - his eyes are probably screwed shut. Adopting a voice he’d use to a scared, child-patient, Mark introduces himself, Hello, Mr. Huang, I’m Mark Lee-”

Before Mark can even finish, Taeyong adds, “and you can hold his hand!”

At this, Huang Xuxi lifts his head.

:::

Save for the occasional sniffle, Huang Xuxi is surprisingly quiet throughout the entire process.

Even Hendery has to be removed because he’s causing too much ‘disturbance’, as Taeyong had politely put, and the foreign man seemed to understand as well. He looked more than eager to leave the cubicle when Taeyong requested him to leave.

He also followed Mark’s instruction well, even if he’s silently crying, Mark is strangely proud of him.

Mark, who is also all too aware of Xuxi’s large hand gripping his tiny, puny one like a lifeline.

He reasoned it’s because Xuxi’s practically strangling his hand, he can barely feel it anymore with how tight the hold is. Mark has never been so grateful in his life before to see someone trimming their nails, he’d be bleeding had Xuxi kept his long. Attributing none of the fastening palpitation against his breastbones with Huang Xuxi’s allure.

“And, we’re done!” Taeyong announces, handing the chainsaw to Jeno who takes too much time admiring the buzzing tool before switching it off, much to the patient’s relief.

Sniffing, Xuxi asks Mark meekly. Batting those tears-drenched, long lashes until his vision clears. “We- we’re done? My balls, are safe?”

Those big, doe eyes are really doing something to Mark’s. Inside. Up and down. He mentally admonishes himself, for being unprofessional, then smiling his standard-issued comforting smile, “yes. We’re done. Your b, testicles,” he hastily amends, “are safe now. The chair’s no longer attached to them.”

Mark gives him a show of looking over just to assure the hapless patient that the chair is really gone and his balls are finally emancipated.

“They’re gone. Your testicle is a little blue and swollen due to lack of blood circulation, but we will apply some ointment that can help,” he tells, looking back at Xuxi who cringes at the mention of blue balls, but he’s looking noticeably perkier than before.

“After that, you need to rest for 2 to 3 hours. I’ll check your condition and if there’s no further problem, you may leave,” Taeyong elaborates while taking off his latex gloves. He moves to stand beside Mark, the spot where Xuxi could see. Giving the poor lad a thumbs up, the doctor adds, “good job, Mr. Huang. Thanks to your composure, the process went smoothly. Had you were not as calm as you were, this could have taken longer. Thank you for staying put.”

The smile that lits up Xuxi’s face is tired but heavily colored with gratitude. There are sparkles in his eyes, looking at Taeyong reverently like the doctor is his Lord and Savior (he technically is), the God who spun his world into existence and snapped Xuxi to live in it. Breathlessly, he says, “thank you, doctor. You saved my life.”

Taeyong’s smile widens, imperceptible but the change’s there. “Now, would you excuse me. I have another patient to attend. See you in three hours, Mr. Huang.” With a graceful bow, the ever so elegant doctor takes his leave.

Mark notices Xuxi's gaze trailing after the doctor’s departing figure.

And he doesn’t like it.

Huh. Huh. _Huh_.

Shaking his head to diminish the creeping, unnecessary thoughts, Mark clears his throat. “Right, so, Mr. Huang.”

Xuxi shifts his wet gaze back to Mark, brown eyes glassy and shining. Luscious sweet caramels. The right one is also slightly more hooded than the left. This oddness only makes them more attractive. Mark would have no problem staring at them for the rest of his life.

 _You should not be ogling at your patient like this, Mark Lee!?!?_ His conscience chides, exasperated. Clearing his throat once again, a pretty much meaningless act by now, Mark continues, “I’m gonna get the ointment so I have to leave for awhile,” he pointedly eyed their still pretty much joined and very, very sore hands. “Um, so...”

Xuxi, even without a chair awkwardly sticking on his ass, still sounds as timid as ever. He asks, voice slightly thick from tears and loaded with accent, Mark realized now that he can speak without having to worry over his, so to speak, _future_. “Nurse Lee’s gonna leave?”

Huh. Huh. _Huh_.

How could someone this huge everywhere (Mark has _looked_ enough during the process to know that Huang Xuxi definitely belongs in one of those medical textbooks, the human anatomy one to be precise) be this adorable? Was it Mark’s fault for using child-tone when speaking to him? Surely, that wasn’t it? Surely, the guy’s just genuinely terrified and understandably traumatized after what happened to him. Even Mark’s pointed stare at their hands doesn’t make his grasp lessen in strength, if any, it got just a _tiny_ bit stronger.

 _That_ , or Mark has mistaken the hold Xuxi got in his heart to the one he currently has in his hand.

He really got to _stop_ looking at Mark with those autumn forest eyes of his, Mark just wanna get lost in them, discovering fragrant fruits and distinctively colored leaves, instead of answering his question.

Right, the question. The reply tumbles sloppily from his mouth, losing its footing in a show of solidarity to Mark’s teetering emotion. “I have to. Must. We need to tend you as fast or possible to reduce further complication,”

Xuxi juts his bottom lips forward. _Pouting_. Mark’s head got light for a moment, balance tipped. “You really have to go?”

“I have to,” he repeats, voice robotic. It’s getting harder and harder to get words out of his throat, Xuxi’s clinging on him near desperately now. He thought he got over this. He’s had his own fair share of dealing with bizarre cases, numerous patients. He had had patients flirting with him before, boys and girls, men and women, but none of them, Mark repeats; _none_ of them managed to have _this_ much influence on Mark.

“Can’t you get someone else?” Xuxi prods, fluttering those pretty, long lashes. Just to blink his tears away, not to further tear Mark’s defense down. Hopefully. Mark isn’t so sure anymore if it turns out that Xuxi is actually flirting on him.

On second thoughts; why would he? He’s handsome and gorgeous. Body sculptured like adonis, surely, he got pretty girls and handsome boys all lined up, waiting for their turn to charm this dreamboat of a man. Why would he be interested in Mark? And trying to get his attention on top of that? Mark’s just projecting, the only reason Xuxi is _interested_ in him is just because Mark had helped him through one of the most distressing moments in his life. That, and nothing else. It’s not because he’s personally interested in Mark. It’s not because he personally finds Mark tempting and would like to learn much about him outside of this hospital setting.

_Right. Get your grip together, Mark Lee. Be professional. Be. Professional!_

With his resolution hardened silver as steel, Mark attempts to pry his hand away from Xuxi.

Only to fail. For whatever reason, Xuxi decided to clutch it stronger instead. Fastened it in the exact moment when Mark started to wiggle his fingers like some kind of carnivorous man-eating plant.

“Umm.”

“Will you be long?” A switch in tactic. Equally effective. Mark’s heart waves a figurative white flag.

“I won’t be,” the next words run free without his consent, gravitated by Xuxi’s pleading tone like satellite to a star. “I promise. Be right back before you know it.”

Xuxi stares at him wordlessly, pretty brown eyes searching. The nurse forgives himself for taking sweet, _sweet_ time looking back. Working in ER gives him little to no pretty sight, he could appreciate something so easy on the eyes like this man. A little bit of appreciative staring won't hurt. Not when the man is acting rather desperate for Mark’s (medical) care and attention.

"I promise," Mark squeezes his hand, backing up his claim with a smile, that he hopes is as convincing as the one Taeyong always used to placate his patients in the face of rather risky practice. "It won't take more than 5 minutes."

"But what if, what if something happened to me. When you're gone. What," Xuxi babbles. And is pulling Mark closer to him. Jostling Mark's heart. Rattling his brain out of his skull. "What if. It hurts. I don't. I'm alone."

If Mark doesn't have self-restraint, he'd be scooping the enormously sized man into his arms. It doesn't matter if Xuxi's nearly twice his size, he'd find a way to make him fit in his less than accommodating limbs.

He has. Thankfully. Self-restraint. He doesn't coddle him, like a mother would to soothe her crying child. Like he wanted to. Instead, he puts his free hand on Xuxi's wrist, keeping the same steadfast smile, yet injecting more firmness to his tone.

"Nothing will happen to you if you let me take the medication now, Mr. Huang. So can you please, let me?"

"But-"

"If you felt something out of ordinary, feel free to call my name," Mark gestures to the bedside table. "Or press this call button here. If I'm not back yet, the other nurse in duty will come to get you."

"But-"

Goodness. He's starting to agree with Hendery. Huang Xuxi is such a big baby. He's cute but he's starting to get on Mark nerves. Holding back his exasperated huff, Mark says, voice clipped and only slightly, _slightly_ threatening. "Are you trying to get your testicles permanently damaged?"

At this, Huang Xuxi pales. He whimpers, then quickly releases Mark's hand from the prison of his grip. The nurse doesn't miss his chance, just as quick, he retracts his hands away. Pretending not to see the flicker of disappointment on the guy's eyes when he realized he's not in possession of them anymore.

 _He's just looking like that because he's scared. Not because he likes holding your hand._ Getting his head right back on track, Mark tosses Xuxi a grin, practically jumps away from the bed and leaves with a, "remember to lie on your side" before his patient can start begging him to say. He's not sure the same trick can work twice.

Not to mention the way Xuxi's gaze lingers on him is beginning to do _something_ to him.

Mark's not really sure if the faint, "hurry and come back," that he heard is something Huang Xuxi actually said, or a product of his imagination.

Nevertheless, it's getting harder to deny that he's developing a crush on his patient. Pathetically fast.

:::

Due to the high number of patients with sex-related injury, Mark is no longer a stranger to tending someone's anus. Vagina. Penis. You name it.

Even if the appendage belongs to someone he's potentially crushing on, with handfuls of experience, Mark carries out the procedure in perfectly, strictly, professional manner.

Huang Xuxi, is again, quiet. He's no longer hiding his (gorgeous) face, but his hands are clenched into a tight fist, despite Mark's occasional reminder to, "relax."

After he finished applying the medication, Mark put the blanket down. Privacy returned albeit pride is not totally intact, Xuxi inquires timidly, "it's done?"

Mark quells down the urge to pet his waist. He busies his hands with the ointment jar instead. Unscrewing it open again. Double checking. Just to be sure. "It is. Dr. Lee will come to check on you in another two or three hours. You can rest until then."

"You stay?"

The timidness bows, taking it leave to be replaced by boldness. No. Yes. There's still a hint of hesitation but coming more from the place of whether this question is appropriate to ask to your nurse, not from the embarrassment of having to be seen in the wretched state he was in before.

Mark really is not sure what to feel. But he's sure he's reeling. He twists the jar close. Holds it too tight in his suddenly sweaty palm.

"Well, I-"

"Nobody would want to date me anymore." is not what Mark expected Huang Xuxi to say but that's what he did.

His brain to mouth filter is switched off, it must be. His whole system shutting down. He's certain, or else, he wouldn't quickly respond to that statement with, "that's not true."

"You must be thinking I'm pathetic," the guy continues to lament, morose. "Getting your balls stuck. In a chair. Oh my god. I can't believe that just happened."

Mark blinks, as rapid as the change in subject. His heart's still tumbling in the dome stage of his ribs, not yet touched the land. With no evenground to tread on, Mark can only manage a, "that did happen. Yes." And to Xuxi's first statement, he adds, "no. I don't think so. I feel sorry, yes. Do wonder how it happened. What and why. But pathetic. No. I don't think you are."

He cannot see Xuxi's reaction from where he is standing now. Still hovering awkwardly behind his patient, caught in place with the unexpected turn of conversation. He considers moving to where he can be seen, but before he can come to a decision, Xuxi turns his head. Face to face now, Mark is reminded again with the dangerously budding attraction he has toward the guy. "You really think so?"

What would Mark do to make Xuxi believe that. Believe him. Anything, everything he said. He swallows the words that have no place in their current conversation, only let those appropriate go. "Yes. It's accident. Things happened. It's not like you did this to yourself."

"I kind of did actually. Had I not sit in that chair," glum deflection. Guilty and ashamed. The things Mark _would_ do for him to not make that miserable expression. The things Mark _would_ say to stop him from blaming himself.

He stomps them down. Everything. They don't belong here. Not now. Doesn't know if they will ever belong. They don't matter. Encouraging Xuxi without sounding like a creep takes priority. Mark decorates his voice with humor, plastering his best crooked grin, "I mean, even if you did choose to sit in that particular kind of chair, you did it because you had to. Injury, wasn’t it? Compared to other patients I have tended, you're not pathetic at all. Really."

Xuxi catches on the thing that Mark purposely left out. He seizes, curiosity picked. “Other patients?"

"Oh well," and Mark, Mark catches it too. The infinitesimal, barely there smile of relief, slowly reigning over his face to replace the unbefitting dejection. "I've had a guy with salami stuck in his ass."

"Salami?"

"Yes. Salami. That salami you put on pizza. Oh, the one that's not cut. So it's this big, nearly the size of my hand." He points to his arm. Doesn't miss the way Xuxi is absolutely not looking at where he gestured him to. Eyes locked on Mark's instead.

"Goodness."

Mark really doesn't know if that nearly breathless remark was for the salami guy or for anything that Xuxi's chocolate praline of eyes found on his face. "Yea, goodness." He quickly casts his gaze down, cowardly running away. "So. You're not pathetic. I don't think so. At least. Oh, I don't know with anyone else," _goodness_. He's stammering now. He can't believe the effect this man has on him. "They better not think you are. That's not really nice. But I hope you know it doesn't matter. They're just being mean. It really is not pathetic."

"You're right, it doesn't matter what they think."

"Right." Mark unscrews the poor jar open again. He's going to break it.

"It only matters what you think."

And with a loud, resounding _crash_ , he breaks it.

Mark. Breaks the jar. Letting it slip and fall from his hand. Huang Xuxi. Breaks Mark. Apparently. Barreling through his unsteady wall of defense with vague words and enticing gazes that revive one, persistent, forbidden thought;

_Is he flirting with me?_

"Oh shit!"

He hears Xuxi yelps. Doesn't know what kind of face he's making right now. Doesn't know what he is making himself, although he's 100% aware of the heat torching up his face, and the small one brightly lit down his belly.

"Shit. Sorry, are you okay? What's wrong? Was it something I said?"

Mark crouches down to fetch the fallen jar. It judges him silently by rolling away further from Mark's grasp at one clumsy attempt. "No. Okay. I'm-" One more. He secures the nondescript jar tightly in his hands. “It wasn’t you. But, yes, perhaps. But you didn’t say anything wrong, don’t worry. I just don’t understand. Really.”

Drat. Did he really have to go and blurt it all out? Huang Xuxi really has broken him, it seems. He doesn’t even understand what he was saying. Mark stays crouched down for a while, unsure and slightly terrified and utterly embarrassed like he was the one who was rolled to ER with a plastic chair biting his balls. 

The silence from Huang Xuxi leaves him hanging, it’s like watching someone pointing a gun at you. A moment loaded. The jar in the claps of his hands no longer offers help nor distraction, detesting Mark for dropping it to the floor. Still, he hangs on it, twisting the lid open. Not necessarily to check the content, merely out of instinct to find comfort, diversion from the looming moment of explosion.

It comes, not with a deafening bang but with Huang Xuxi’s fairly concerned, “are you okay? Did you hurt your leg?”

“Oh. My leg’s are fine! Splendid!” Mark shoots up, shoulder squared and back straight as if to demonstrate. The half-opened jar would have spilled its content if it wasn’t for his overly tight grip. His eyes find purchase on anything that’s not Huang Xuxi’s face, or eyes, happened to be the metal bedpost above his messy, tousled brown hair.

They look soft. Mark regrets not trying to pet him earlier, he looked like he didn’t mind back then, would take any form of reassurance he’s offered.

 _Drat_. “So! Injury, right! You’re injured!” Mark waltzes new topic with overly cherry smile, evasion. “That’s why you needed a chair. See, it’s not really your fault that this happened.”

If Xuxi caught on Mark’s real intent, he doesn’t say anything, just sounding relieved Mark’s not harming his legs. “Twisted my legs from playing football. The American one, not the English football, that’s just soccer.” There’s also a hint of lovely, lovely laugh in his voice. Mark absolutely wants to see if he really was laughing, wanting to see how his face ripples and rises in the wake of amusement.

He doesn’t. Patching up the holes in his composure takes priority, he persistently watches the bland metal bedpost instead. “That's an unusual sport to play, I don’t hear much about it. Tennis and basketball, sure, but American Football?” He’s not just saying it, he really doesn’t hear much about American Football. Mark doesn’t have particular interest in sports himself but some of his peers do, yet, none of them talked about American Football.

If he’s looking up about it later on Google, that’s because he’s genuinely interested in the game. Not because he wanted to find a way to properly imagine how Huang Xuxi would play it.

“I know, it’s not as popular as other sports, but I’ve tried all and American Football just,” he makes an enthusiastic noise of appreciation, affirming his passion toward the sport. Mark finds it utterly adorable and wholly endearing. “It’s the only sport I can’t stop playing since high school. And I’ve tried much, much of them, but nothing beats the exhilarating feeling of being in the field. Running, tackling, touch down!”

If he wasn’t aware of their surroundings, he’d be shouting his lungs out for sure. There’s so much fervor, ardor, splendid and fierce in his voice. Bewitched by the burning devotion, Mark’s gaze falls on him, inexorable and impatient to see, to look, to witness Huang Xuxi speaking in his rapture.

And he really is, with that childlike-enthusiasm adorning his exquisite face, the best damn thing Mark has ever seen.

“It’s good that you love it,” he says, all too tender in its wonder for Mark’s liking. “But remember to be careful, never skip warm up. People look down to it but it’s really important to avoid injury.”

Maintaining that cheerful spirit, Xuxi wrinkles his nose. “I never! I’m an advocate for one. But it’s a tough, high-impact one, so,” he shrugs to the best of his ability with his current potion. “There’s only as much collision I can take, I guess.” Mark must have done something with his face, shifting to glum concern, perhaps, for Xuxi to make such haste in explaining, “it’s not so bad anymore! And this wasn’t the first time I showered sitting down, but Hendery broke the usual chair so I gotta use this one. Look at where it got me.”

“Yes, gee,” Mark rolls his eyes playfully. 

“Here with you.”

 _Wow_. That’s not what Mark was expecting. What’s with Huang Xuxi and his surprise attack? Is this particular ambush reflected on his play style on the field? He’s caught Mark off guard more than twice already, in such a short span they’ve spent together. Is he that good or Mark’s getting rusty? Which is rich coming from him. Mark remembers clearly the last relationship he had was back in high school, it only lasted for three months before they decided they were better off as friends. He never really bothered with the relationship again after that, partly too busy to care and partly nobody really ticked his fancy.

 _Lies_. There were some people he’s crushing on before Huang Xuxi carted to ER with chair hanging from his ass, but there was always something that convinced Mark that he’s not ready to be in relationship yet. Or they’re ‘not the one’. Or they ‘won’t work out’. Or they ‘better off as friends.’

Donghyuck told him he’s just being a coward. He just didn’t have the courage to risk it. A part of Mark didn’t disagree with his best friend's opinion. But that was then and this is now, and _now_ Mark disagrees with him; because none of those men and women had made him want to ‘try and risk it’ the way Huang Xuxi, with his radiant smile and zealous football passion, appealed him to.

The ball in his court, it’s up to Mark to decide the direction of this game. A game he’s totally out of practice in. Huang Xuxi watches him, under the all-too-bright hospital light, he’s too harsh for the eyes. Too sharp, too much contrast. Mark wonders what could he be thinking right now, did he realize what he was saying, the underlying meanings? Was that all intended, well-devised plan, or honest, endearingly careless mistake? He's a foreigner, there’s always a chance he didn’t fully realize the nuances in his words.

That one particular thought offers him comfort, he decides to go with it. It’s the safest way to play right now. Ignoring the hissing in his head, mocking his _cowardice_ , Mark feigns the oblivious. “You’re lucky it’s me, the other nurse won’t be as kind. They’d probably tease you the way your friends did.” At the patient’s slightly alarmed expression, he elaborates, “Oh, no. I didn’t mean they’re going to be mean, probably throwing lame puns or something. No harm intended. You know, just friendly teasing and all to ease your tension.”

Xuxi grumbles, “Hendery’s worst as it is. I don’t need strangers making fun of it too,” he airquotes, “no harm intended and all that, I just don’t think it’s nice. I could have died, god damn it. Hendery could be a little nicer, it’s partly his fault too that I ended up in that condition, had he not break that chair!”

He’s getting slightly too worked up and too loud, at least he’s not throwing Mark off-balance anymore. “I can agree to that, but some friends are like that. Their way of,” he airquotes one-handed, Xuxi beams. “Showing affection and all that. They’re just trying to reassure us that it’s not as bad as it seems. Although, again, I agree with you. There’s always a better way to do it.”

“There’s always time and place, sure,” the dark-haired man wrinkles his nose. Then his downturned mouth leaps into joyful smile, rosy and unashamedly adoring, “that’s why I’m glad it’s you! You’re so sweet, you even let me hold your hand!”

Oh my. It seems he was too quick to jump into conclusion. Huang Xuxi is still playing _offense_ , trying to bring him down.

“I was so ready to freak out! How could I not? Saw, near my balls? Ugh, how did I even survive that. Goodness,” he shivers for effect, cringing but lapses back into that cute grin quickly. “And there you’re, Nurse Lee! You held my hand, and your voice’s so nice when you guided me to calm down. To breathe. That’s nice. Nobody has ever done that for me.”

Yes. Mark did that. Holding his hand, which he was rather stubborn to keep. And that’s actually good that nobody has ever done that for him. Not because Mark wanted to be the only person who ever helped him breathe, but because that means Huang Xuxi was never in such a distressing condition that required someone else to regulate his breathing. Did he say Mark’s voice is nice?

“Oh! OH! I’m such an idiot!” A way too hard slap on his head. A rather drastic change to his elated expression. A drop of sadness to his ocean-depth voice. “I haven’t said thank you at all, have I? I did, I think. To Dr. Lee. But not to you, yet. I’m sorry, Nurse Lee, when you’ve done so much for me.”

“No, no, no.” Mark struggles to find words but this one, fleeing far and free from his mouth with rapidfire succession. He _cannot_ fucking do this. Nothing else comes afterward. Gun out of bullet. Mark breathes out weakly, hiding his face behind his arms. Jar of ointment hard and cold against his cheek. “No.”

“No?” Confusion and disappointment bleeds into one. Gloomy clouds over the ocean. “You don’t, no?”

“No,” Mark steadies himself to the best of his ability, which is so very little, what’s with his heart running a whole circus in his ribcages and the heat scorching his everywhere. “No. I mean. No. Thank you. Crap, I’m afraid I’m not making much sense. Am I?”

“Don’t be afraid. You’re not. But it’s okay. Don’t say no,” Xuxi pleads, voice tripping all over the place, accent growing heavier with every word. “It was me, wasn’t it? I was saying something wrong. Why did you say no?”

“Because I,” deep breath, Mark Lee. Deep, fucking, breath. “No. I didn’t do anything much for you. I just,”

“You held my hands,” as if that could explain anything at all. But the way he said it, the way it smoothly glided out of his lips like well-practiced dance steps leave little room for argument. “That’s a lot for me, Nurse Lee. I. Did you not hear what Dr. Lee said? Had I not-”

But Mark’s stubborn, so he presses on. “That’s on you. Sir. Huang. You’re brave, so you’re calm. That’s not me. That wasn’t me.” He draws a deep breath. “So I don’t. Deserve that.”

“How come you didn’t deserve that?” He sounds annoyed. Not at Mark, but more like; on Mark’s behalf.

“No, not the thank you. I do. Perhaps. You’re welcome, I still think I didn’t do much but, yes, thank you. You’re welcome. I’m glad I could help.” He says it all in one breath, “but I was saying-”

“So, that’s you. That’s all you. I was brave, yes, but I could be so because you’re there.”

“Oh my God,” Mark can only whisper, powerless and defeated. There is no stopping this guy, it seems. Mark doesn’t know how American Football works, but he’d not be surprised if Huang Xuxi’s position, line-whatever, requires him to catch people and throw them down to win.

“Don’t say no,” he grows quiter, but not losing strength nor conviction. “For me, you did a lot.”

“Um. Thank you,” Mark admits softly.

“Let me see your face, please?”

“Oh,” fizzles out of Mark’s mouth. He spares no more effort, can no longer withstand. Any struggle was futile in front of Huang Xuxi and his persuasive voice and his words too darling, too indulgent. Truly, if Mark’s the satellite then Huang Xuxi must be the planet he orbits, everything of him was too magnetic, gravity bidding, undeniable.

Mark lets his hands fall from his face, both cheeks flushed and scarlet.

Welcoming him is Huang Xuxi’s smile, not all too harsh and brilliant, like the lamp hanging over them, but tender, slowly spilling sun between the clouds. Warm and welcomed. “Thank you, Nurse Lee.” Ethereal sweetness of finely spunned pastel sugar. Mark just _has_ to crave for it. “I meant it.”

“Uhh.”

Mark, after the label he selfishly put on him, never thought Hendery will be his saving grace today. But apparently standing behind the curtain, he is. He _is_.

“I really didn’t want to interrupt but the coffee’s getting rather cold by now. And my hands are slightly sore, so can I come in.” Mark’s mouth goes slack. “Perhaps?”

Not. No. He’s no hero, let alone saving grace. He’s the evil laughing hyenas. Mark can tell there’s a _fucking laugh_ in his ‘perhaps’.

Mustering all his courage, grabbing the sulking ointment jar, Mark robotically explains, "right. Don't forget to stay on your side. Don't lie back. We'll check on you later," to rather put-out yet prettily flushed Huang Xuxi before catapulting himself out of the cubicle.

He ignores Hendery. Hyena. What's his name. Pretends he doesn't see the shit-eating grin wide and bright on his face, Mark walks in a long stride, all too-eager to get away from Huang Xuxi. From his mellifluous words and honeyed eyes.

“Aww, sorry, Bro. Really,” Hendery can be heard saying in Korean before launching into his native language. As if he wanted Mark to know, as if he wanted Mark to understand.

 _That_. Mark also pretends he doesn’t hear that.

:::

For whatever reason, the usually busy ER is rather free today. Leaving Mark nothing to do but sitting by the phone, ready on duty.

It's something he should be grateful for. No one is hurt, nobody's injured. Everyone's spending their time with their loved ones, safe and sound.

While Mark is there, sitting alone and somewhat miserable. Confused. Struggling to sort out his feelings.

He tried to distract himself from doing that but after rearranging the cabinet and sorting all the documents that need and can be sorted, he runs out of options. 

Not thinking about it. His feelings. And Huang Xuxi. Is practically impossible to do. Not when the other nurses in duty with him, Jeno and Yeeun, are talking rather animatedly and enthusiastically about it, albeit in small voices.

Mark desperately tries to tune them out and finds the most effective way to be thinking about the man in question. Figures.

Was Huang Xuxi flirting with him? If he did, this won't be the first time patients flirted with him. He had his fair share of experience with men and women. Some do it in friendly, endearing ways. Some borderline creepy. But in all cases, Mark always, _always_ found a way to turn them down. Joking back in an equally flirty manner or acting sternly professional. None of the patients' flirting ever got him flustered, a shy smile and timid, "thank you," at most.

But Huang Xuxi. He's different. He's affecting Mark _this_ much. Usually, he'd no longer think about them, leaving the charming words and appreciative gestures back in the cubicle with the patient who wreathed them like a flower crown.

This time, it's different. Even when he's no longer in sight nor in his hearing (okay, this one's slightly wrong. Actually, he can faintly hear him and Hendery talking in what Yeeun told him to be Cantonese), all Mark can think is his big, pleading eyes, and his ambiguous, left much to be elaborated-words.

And those _gazes_. God. The way Huang Xuxi had looked at him back then. When he said, "goodness," breathlessly with eyes transfixed on him. Mark had seen how people checked on him before and this was the exact same way, just missing the lustful edge that makes their leer uncomfortable.

He's pretty sure he's looking at Huang Xuxi in a similar manner.

He can dismiss Xuxi's unwillingness to let him go, his pleas for Mark to stay, as the result of the man's fear. But the rest? The way he said none of anyone's opinion mattered but Mark's? How it began with Xuxi saying things about nobody wanting to date him? He said Mark’s sweet and his voice is nice?

And Mark had risen at the bait. Responding too fast. Too quick. Embarrassingly eager. _Fuck_. He should have known. His patient is an absolute looker, he must be a pro at this flirting game.

“Mark?”

The young nurse is snapped away from his musing. He looks up to find Taeyong walking toward him. “Yes, Sir?”

Taeyong gives him a funny look. For the way Mark addressed him, no doubt. Even after all these times, he’s still not used to having Mark calling him that. “Have you checked on him? It’s nearly been three hours.”

Mark was so ready to pretend that he doesn’t know who this ‘him’ that Taeyong is talking about but in the fear of potentially disappointing the man, he withdraws. “No, I’m waiting for you, actually.”

The change in Taeyong’s face is miniscule, but working so long together has given Mark some degree of understanding him. Therefore, he can tell that Taeyong is somewhat surprised. “That’s unusual. You would have called.”

And likewise, Taeyong understands him. Mark shies away from his inquisitive gaze, fetching the clipboard instead. “Shall we?”

The doctor mercifully decides to let him go, not asking further even if he could have. He walks ahead of Mark, leading them to the cubicle where Hendery and Huang Xuxi have been chattering nonstop in their native language.

The conversation ceases to halt immediately upon Taeyong’s arrival, the doctor flashes them his signature charming smile. “Hello, I hope all is well?”

Hendery says something in Cantonese before realizing he’s speaking in the wrong language. He cringes, slipping back to Korean, “sorry, force of habit.”

Taeyong breezily says, “none taken.” He rounds the bed to stand behind Xuxi. “How are you, Mr. Huang?”

Mr. Huang in question replies, “fine.” Caramel eyes locked on Mark. Again. Appraising. _Devouring_. His gaze is as intense as it was before. As all-consuming as his voice. “I don’t feel anything,” a pause. “Anything out of the ordinary.”

The way he sweeps his gaze down Mark’s feature is daring. Almost heroic in all its dauntless glory.

“So I didn’t call,” he concludes. Despite them meaning to be his answer to Taeyong’s question, with the laser focus he has on Mark, he’s pretty much talking to him. “Right, Nurse Lee?”

Pinned under those arresting eyes, Mark cannot look away. He stands, as still as his breath. As still as the gaze trained on him. Doused in Xuxi’s undivided attention, all Mark can get out of his mouth is an intelligible noise of agreement.

Mark is totally unaware of everything else that’s happening around him, it’s like being put under a spell. Perhaps, those eyes are enchanted. A thing of magic. Perhaps, Huang Xuxi is not human. Perhaps, he’s a wizard or some sort, using his sorcery to control Mark like he’s a puppet tied to a string. That would explain the undeniable influence he has over Mark.

“So I really _was_ interrupting something,” and just like that, the spell is broken.

Mark and Xuxi breaks their eye contact almost simultaneously, snapping their attention to Hendery, still in his gray hoodie and looking too much like Jaemin when he got some spectacularly dumb idea that somehow appealed to anyone but Mark, who according to them, ‘doesn’t know how to have fun’.

He even wiggles his brows. An emphasis. Glee on his face like a cat who just got the canary. “Dude, who are you kidding.”

“Who are who kidding?” Taeyong, who is in the middle of checking Xuxi’s testicle, chimes in, interest lilting his voice. The beautiful doctor looks back and forth between Hendery and Mark. Then, to Mark’s horror; between Mark and their patient who’s currently grumbling something. Probably a series of Cantonese expletives judging from the irritated expression on his pretty face.

Mark splutters, “don’t-” at the same time with Huang Xuxi’s loud, pained, “fuck!”, quickly followed by Taeyong’s panicked, “sorry. Sorry.”

Hendery’s grin just got wider. Mark mentally nails the badge of “Evil Laughing Hyenas” on him.

“Look at the bright side, you’re feeling it just fine!” Taeyong concludes cherrily, no ounce of guilt detected. He gives Mark a quick _knowing_ look before shifting his gaze to Hendery. “He’s free to go, I can prescribe some salve and pain killer if needed. I’d advise not to sleep on your back for a while, at least for one more day, just to be sure. Don't sit for too long. If you started to feel something different with your testicles, you should directly consult with the urologist. Unfortunately, his shift won't start until another 2 hours, but we will provide the number just in case.”

"Would you rather wait, Xuxi?" Hendery's question sounds too much like a teasing to be one. "He can wait here, right, Nurse Lee?"

Huang Xuxi voiced out what Mark had wanted to. "You asshat," he hisses, reaching out to punch his, perhaps no longer best, friend. Hendery is having too much fun to care. If only he wasn't a nurse on duty, he would slam the clipboard on his perky face.

Taeyong's mercy doesn't last as long as Mark hoped it'd be. "I don't think it'd be a problem, yes, Mark? We don't have that many patients today."

"I," with everyone's attention on him, Xuxi's included, Mark stutters. He begins to wonder if he did something to upset Taeyong lately to cause the doctor setting him up like this. He draws up blank. Taeyong just likes to tease him, that's all.

"That won't be necessary," Huang Xuxi comes swooping in, gallant and epic as hero. "I'd rather go home for now. I believe in your, j," he visibly struggles to find the right word. "Jusd. Judgement? Yeah. I believe you, it should be okay."

Hendery groans something in Cantonese that Huang Xuxi blissfully ignores in favor of talking to Taeyong. They converse some more about Xuxi's condition, whether he needs the medication or not. Mark only vaguely follows, mind swaying with the implication of Hendery's words.

Before he could catch up with his surroundings, Taeyong is already shaking his hands with Xuxi, wishing him well, and leaves with Hendery who says something about paying the medical fee.

Then it's just him and Huang Xuxi. Again.

And he's staring at Mark. Again.

Oh Lord, have _mercy_.

"Umm," is his not so eloquent way of breaking the unnerving silence. His gaze sways, traverses from one place to another.

"Will you help me?"

"Huh?" Great. Of course they ended up docking in the exotic harbour that is Huang Xuxi.

"Put my pants on."

The logical part of his brain tells him that Huang Xuxi does actually need help with putting his pants out. But that particular part of his brain is stomped down to dormancy by the mental image of helping Huang Xuxi into his pants.

Mark doesn't know what pushes him to blurt out what he does next. Perhaps it's his brain, overthinking. Perhaps, it's Hendery's teasings; implications behind it. Perhaps, it’s the all-too-misleading conversation they had. Perhaps, it's Huang Xuxi, and the entirety of his adonis-like being and his steady, unabashed gaze, that drives the words out from Mark's mouth.

“Are you flirting with me?”

He didn't expect Huang Xuxi to immediately, confidently, answer, despite his state of half-undress and actually needing help to get into his pants. “Perhaps. I did.”

“Seriously?” Mark almost shrieked this one out, it comes out as baffled hiss instead.

“I thought I was being obvious,” The foreigner says casually. Blinks his pretty, doe eyes in faux innocence. This bastard.

Mark tries to sound annoyed, “hard not to miss with all the eyefucking- Fuck. Sure. Fuck,” and stutters. Great, of course he’d messed this up, he’s out of practice with all this flirting business, darn it.

Xuxi doesn't laugh at him. He frowns, “was it because my Korean wasn’t good?”

“Yes. No. Maybe,” burying his face in his hands, Mark weakly groans, “I don’t know.” He can't believe this. Huang Xuxi just admitted that he is _indeed_ flirting with Mark. Mark's not overthinking it. He's not reading the wrong signal. All those _it only matters what you think_ and _your voice’s nice_.

“Oh my,”

“What?” Why did Huang Xuxi say it, it's supposed to be Mark's words.

“You wouldn’t file a sexual harassment claim, would you?”

“Why,” he nearly gapes at the gorgeously dumb man before him. He doesn’t, just exasperatedly ask from behind the pitiful refuge offered by his hands. “Would I do that?”

“I’m flirting with you,” he answers as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh my God. You do.”

“I am.”

“Oh God.”

“Yes?”

Utterly confused, Mark raises his head from his hands, brows knitted in bewilderment. “What?”

“Oh, you said; God. I thought you’re calling me.”

The nerve of this man, Mark doesn’t care how stupid he looks like now, mouth hanging open and face red, flustered. “Oh my fucking God,” seems to be the only combination of words left in his mushy brain.

Xuxi shrugs, a cocky smile plastered on his handsome face. “Well,”

“No. Stop.” Hands are raised. Sign of surrender. His heart, perhaps. Mark takes a deep breath, “Just. Don’t.”

“Don’t flirt anymore?”

“Not that.”

“Oh!” Eager. That childlike enthusiasm that was there when he spoke about American Football is there. “So, it’s okay to flirt with you?”

“Holy fuck, you really are shameless, aren’t you,” he can’t take this anymore. This is too much, Mark fights the urge to yank his face. Hair. Out. whatever. Huang Xuxi’s gonna be the death of him. How unfair, after what Mark did to save him.

His distress is the last thing on his mind, it seems. Because his eyes are bright, burning fiery with intent. Is this how he looks like in the game, Mark wonders. Will Mark be allowed to watch his game, he idly considers. “Is it okay?”

“Lord,” followed by immediate, “no. No. I didn’t mean you. Not you.”

Huang Xuxi chuckles. “You’re quick to figure me out.”

“And you sure act big for someone who just got his balls stuck in a chair.” It’s weak. A low blow. He knew.

He also knew it won’t affect Xuxi at all. This is the fight that Mark has lost before it even begins. He’s out of practice while Huang Xuxi is a pro at this. He came prepared with the strategy of getting his balls stuck in a chair while all Mark had was his clipboard and medic school-trained cordiality.

Actually, if that bizarre accident was his way of getting Mark’s attention, which it surely was not, it’s really pathetic. But speaking hypothetically, would Mark want to date someone who did that just to flirt with him?

Looking at Huang Xuxi and enormous eyes glittering gold; in hope, in glorious adoration. Remembering his clumsily worded flirting, well-intended, disarming gratitude, Mark thinks that; _yes_. Yes. He’d try. He’d drop the anchor and docks in his pier. 

“I do. I sure, do. Only for you.” Mark squeaks, uncharacteristically happy even for him. “So, can I get your number?” Adding a pause for dramatic flair, and a strategically thrown wink, he adds, “Nurse Lee?”

Huang Xuxi smiles. Bright. As sun. As promise. Ready to be fulfilled. A new land with all the exciting adventure, autumn forest auburn rich hides treasure.

As Mark’s future with him. The nurse dares to hope.

“Let’s just, get you dressed first.”


End file.
